


And I want nothing but the best (Better than anyone has had yet)

by ABC24



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Harry gets a pet, M/M, Post-War, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:13:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28269678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABC24/pseuds/ABC24
Summary: In the years since the war, Harry has been struggling to find his footing. Being apart of the Aurors wasn't for him, ad he hasn't really considered what else there is for him out there. He isn't what he wants, and if he is, how to get it. With the question looming over his head of 'what next', Harry decides to get a dog.Loosely based on the song 'I want a dog' by Hobo JohnsonExcerpt:“I want a dog.”“A dog?” Ron echoed. A Laugh bubbled out of him, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees as if it was the weirdest thing Harry had ever said to him, and really the bar was far too high for that to be true. Harry said nothing. Unsure of how to justify himself. Ron held his gaze for a moment, searching. Before Harry could say anything more, Ron shrugged, the issue seemingly resolved. “’Mione will pitch a fit if it eats Crookshanks.”
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter





	And I want nothing but the best (Better than anyone has had yet)

“Mate,” Ron sighed. Harry could hear the words before he even spoke them. “What do you want?” 

Harry had heard that a lot recently; from Hermione every time she’d seen him since he’d quit the Aurors, she said it with concern clearly written across her face. She knew about the panic attacks, and knew he couldn’t sit still for the life of him. His years at Hogwarts had been spent continually chasing one quest after another. Everyone thought, including him that a quiet period in his life might do him some good. It had for a day or two then a voice that sounded something akin to Petunia and Vernon nagged him to clean. Sitting around had been a luxury he could never have afforded before and it certainly didn’t suit him now. His skin itched, the days stretching out and grating on his nerves. He was twitchier, but couldn’t settle on a career path like Hermione and Molly so desperately wished he would. 

He’d also heard it from Andromeda. Hers was more a fond and exasperated call that came whenever he stepped out of her floo. Whilst on his hunt for... something, he’d taken to spending a lot of time with Teddy. The small boy reminding him so much of Remus and Tonks in a way that made his chest ache, but the boy’s wide smile and babbles shooed it away rapidly. 

He’d most recently heard it from Ginny when she’d ended their relationship. He thinks that hearing it from her had hurt the most. She sounded resigned, knowing that the answer wouldn’t be her. They had grieved the war together, cuddling in front of the fire at Grimmauld and in the warmth of the Burrow, but she was ready to move on and needed to know whether he would be joining her. He would not, but he hadn’t been able to explain why. And so she went to Wales without him, hurtling towards her goal whilst he remained. 

Ron’s question had an undertone of bitterness. He knew, along with Hermione, better than anyone what scars the War had left on Harry. And Harry knew the marks it had left on Ron and the rest of his family. The Weasleys had come out of the war better than a lot of families, but they were still grieving their losses and the economic impact of the war hadn’t missed them as it swept over the country. A joke shop wasn’t the most essential business to support when families are scrimping and saving. The Ministry itself had cut back on wages and bonuses to help fund rebuilds. Ron was frustrated that whilst his family worked to the bone to recover what the war had stripped them of, his friend had the luxury of time to decide what he wanted to do. He never came out and said it, but Harry knew. Hermione sometimes indulged him in Ron’s tired rants. He was trying to do better at keeping an eye on them, as they did him. 

“What do you mean?” Harry replied, they both knew what Ron had meant. 

“George is thinking of going back to work. The shop doesn’t need you both there. You’ve finished tidying this place up. You’re not an Auror. What do you want to do?” Ron said, lounging across the sofa. He looked tired; Harry felt tired too. “’Cause I’ll be honest... I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to keep track of your projects if you don’t settle on something.” He continued on jokingly, though Harry knew he was mildly serious. All his friends were struggling to understand what exactly he was doing these days, Ron was being worked to the bone with Auror training that he could hardly blame him for losing track too. 

“I-…" Harry started to say. What could he say? What could he ever say? I want to do something, but I don’t know what and I don’t have the patience to figure it out? I want to help people, but hunting down dark wizards isn’t the same after you’ve already died doing it? I want someone to top walking on fucking eggshells and tell me how they feel? I want to tell someone I’ve died, what it was like. I want things to be easy for once. I’ve worked hard enough figuring out problems, why can’t this be fucking easy? He couldn’t say those. “I want a dog.” Was what he finally came out with, surprising himself. 

“A dog?” Ron echoed. A Laugh bubbled out of him, sitting up and resting his elbows on his knees as if it was the weirdest thing Harry had ever said to him, and really the bar was far too high for that to be true. Harry said nothing. Unsure of how to justify himself. Ron held his gaze for a moment, searching. Before Harry could say anything more, Ron shrugged, the issue seemingly resolved. “’Mione will pitch a fit if it eats Crookshanks.” 

* * *

Ron had clearly passed word on to Hermione, and the next morning Harry was sent off to Diagon Alley with her seal of approval. ‘A pet will help.’ She had said, his breath caught in his throat at the thought of snowy white feathers and playful nips. ‘Responsibility and routine.’ Responsibility was something he knew well enough; it was the latter he was struggling with. So, off he went to see a man about a dog. 

“What do you want?” A sharp, pointed voice asked as soon as he stepped into Magical Menagerie. Harry looked up from where his eyes had been trained on his feet. He didn’t like making eye contact with the other inhabitants of Diagon Alley, didn't enjoy their pleading or awe filled expressions. There with a broom in hand and an apron accentuating the trim of his waist was Draco Malfoy. 

Draco looked as surprised to see him as Harry was. Shockingly, despite their rivalry at school, the war had ended with little fanfare between them. Harry had spoken at his trial along with Narcissa’s, they both had civilly said their thanks and moved on. He hadn’t given the other boy much thought in the months since, but now as he stood there in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up at uneven lengths, broom in hand and hair draping into his face, Harry couldn’t place why that was. Malfoy had always taken up a lot of his time at school, why had that stopped? 

“Uh. Potter. Sorry, we’re uh... How can I help you?” Malfoy stammered. It was uncharacteristic. He was usually collected and pointed with his words. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard an unprompted apology from the boy. 

“Oh.” Hary replied helpfully unsure of what else to say. “A dog.” 

“What?” Why was everyone so surprised by his need for a dog? “Is that a joke?” Malfoy asked, seemingly recovered from his shock, his brow furrowed and his grip on the broom tightening. 

“Why would I be joking?” Harry asked. He was uncertain how this day had managed to get away from him so rapidly. On second thought, he knew exactly how that had happened. 

“This is a _Magical_ Menagerie. Why on earth would we sell dogs?” Malfoy continued; his brow still furrowed in confusion. Harry noticed that his nose scrunched a little when he was confused. 

“Uh... Harry gestured towards the row of cages containing magical and non-magical animals, unable to help the smile that spread across his face as an owl hooted, seemingly agreeing with his point. 

Malfoy rolled his eyes, murmuring something that sounded like ‘Traitor’ under his breath. He huffed and focused back on the other boy in store. “These creatures here are sensitive to magic, dogs are not.” He said carefully and slowly. “Ergo, we don’t sell them.” 

Harry frowned, mouthing ‘ergo’ to himself. Who even said that? 

“It means therefore-” Draco started to say. 

“I know what it means!” Harry huffed, his frown deepening into one of frustration. “I just don’t think I’ve ever met someone who’s actually said it out loud!” 

It went silent apart from the clattering of animals in cages. Harry suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands, and Malfoy looked like he was eager to get back to his... Sweeping? 

“So where can I get a dog-” Harry began to ask at the same time as Malfoy started to say “Why do you even-”. The blonde’s mouth shut and gestured for Harry to go on. Harry stammered for a second before finishing “Where _can_ I get a dog then?” 

“Why do you even want one, Potter?” Draco sighed, glancing over his shoulder before leaning back against the counter. Harry tried his best to ignore the long lines of his body. When had he started to look like that? When did the shop get so small? He asked himself, his thoughts drowning out whatever Draco was saying. It went silent again. Harry flicked his eyes back up to Malfoy, noticing his brow was raised, waiting for Harry’s response. 

“I just... do?” 

“If you’re unsure why you want one, are you sure you actually do?” Malfoy asked, causing the pointed angry response that Harry felt building up freeze in his throat. “Most people want a companion of some sort, but Merlin knows you’ve got enough sycophants hovering round you.” 

Harry wanted to reply but his throat still felt rough and dry, struggling to even breathe at this point. It went silent again as Malfoy assessed him. Harry hated to think what he was learning. 

“Routine. Responsibility.” Harry finally said after a bang from the back of the shop had jumpstarted him, rebooting his thoughts. The noise also shocked Malfoy; he jumped off the counter, clearing his throat and gripping his broom again. His eyes didn’t stray from Harry though. 

“I know a breeder. I’ll owl you with the information.” Malfoy said before a woman stepped through from a door behind the counter, gasping when she caught sight of the boy in her store. 

“Oh! Mr. Potter! How can I help?” She asked, throwing a cautious glance over at Malfoy who had busied himself with sweeping the store once more. Harry’s eyes darted away from Draco and stared at the woman, his confused gape turning into a polite smile. 

“I was just looking. Your assistant was very helpful though.” He answered, before waving the pair goodbye and exiting from the store. 

As he walked down Diagon Alley, turning into Flourish and Blotts to pick up yet another book on Wizarding Home repairs; he wanted to redo the attic. Again. And maybe add some decking to the garden. He realised he’d never asked Malfoy why he’d been in the Menagerie in the first place. 

* * *

“That bloody dog is going to eat you alive!” Ron cackled, waving his arm out, whiskey sloshing over the edge of the glass and spilling on to the sofa. “Oop.” he mumbled, dabbing it with the hem of his jacket. Hermione and Harry both cringed. 

“Malfoy isn’t giving me the dog; he’s just recommending me a breeder.” Harry explained once more. 

“Knowing Malfoy, it’s a ploy. He’s gonna give you a killer dog!” Ron said, laughing to himself. Apparently, the thought of his friend being mauled by his pet was funny. Harry thought on it as Hermione batted Ron, hissing her annoyance at him. 

“I can see the Prophet now; Battle Weary Saviour Bested by the first Canine death Eater.” Harry said after a moment, laughing himself. If Malfoy’s puppy could succeed where Voldemort had failed, good on the puppy. Harry was up for any excuse to further ruin the bastard even if he was ash now. 

Harry’s words seemed to spark joy in both his friends as they all descended into drunken laughter. The evening spiralled further away from thoughts of Malfoy and in Harry’s hazy mind, it was perfect. 

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy! 
> 
> I've always wanted to write a fic based on the song 'I want a dog' by Hobo Johnson and got introduced to Drarry during this HP Renaissance. I felt like Post war!Harry would be a perfect fit for it, and.... well, here we are. I apologise if any of the lore is incorrect. 
> 
> I'll be very honest, I'm notorious for starting fics and never finishing them so this may just be a brain dump, but who knows. Christmas is a magical time of year, I might continue it. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, hopefully I'll update soon.


End file.
